Origins
by FitchSwitch
Summary: Sort-of-drabble. The beginning of the pinky link and several other less adorable Unholy Trinity traits . Brittana. One-shot.


**A/n: I literally have no idea where this came from. I usually write Skins (so apologies to anyone who got this Author Alert notice and was like, 'wtf I want my Naomily you bitch'). But Brittana wants what Brittana wants and who I am to deny them? Someone's probably already done something like this. Hope you enjoy anyway. Un-beta'd so any mistakes are mine. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, Rachel and Quinn would have made out already _goddamnit_. **

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><p>It was the first day junior high school.<p>

Quinn was walking in front like she always did. Even back then she had started gravitating towards the Queen Bee position, always leaving Santana and Brittany to follow a step or two behind. That was fine. That was the way things always were. Santana had never had a reason to fight it.

Santana and Brittany were walking together like they always did. Their joined hands swung slightly between them. Brittany hummed something happily under her breath and every once in a while she would give Santana's hand a squeeze as if to make sure the Latina girl was still there. Santana would always squeeze back.

A group of girls passed them on the way to first period and burst into giggles the moment they were clear of the Trio. Santana yelped as they both almost barreled into Quinn when the blonde girl stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall.

"Whoa," Santana dug her heels in to stop them on time and without really thinking about it tugged the back of Brittany's shirt so she would stop on time too. "I know they taught you how to walk, Fabray, I was there for that," the Latina teased lightly.

"You can't do that anymore," Quinn ordered. She was looking pointedly at Santana's hand in Brittany's.

Santana's eyes narrowed immediately. Her teasing face vanished. "Um, excuse you?" she snapped.

Brittany frowned down at her hand in Santana's like she was trying to see what the difference between their hands now and their hands ten seconds ago was. They looked the same as they always did, tan skin contrasting nicely against pale and their fingers so interwoven it was difficult to tell where one stopped and the other started. She couldn't see anything wrong.

"You heard me," Quinn snapped back. "You can't do that anymore. It's weird."

"We've always done this," Santana said like she was talking to a particularly slow child. They _had _always done it ever since Brittany showed a propensity to wander off when something distracted her whenever they went anywhere. Santana's hand anchored her to the group and kept her out of trouble.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Yeah, in elementary school," she said. "This is _junior high, _San. It's different. You can't have people laughing at you in the halls if you want to make it to the top of the food chain." Quinn's face changed into the cold smirk that had started appearing more and more often during the summer. Brittany was oblivious to the change in their best friend but Santana wasn't sure if she liked it. "And you do want to be on top of the food chain, don't you San? That's our plan. We start now and we'll rule the school when we get to McKinley."

Santana's stomach churned. She sort of felt like she was going to throw up. Those girls hadn't been laughing at _them_, had they? She didn't think so at first but now she couldn't be sure.

She very carefully loosened her grip and slipped her hand out of Brittany's.

Quinn nodded and the group started moving again, this time with Brittany frowning at the distance between her hand and Santana's. Normally she would have just grabbed San's hand again but…she knew she wasn't the brightest crayon in the box but she wasn't stupid and she _was _super observant. She could, like, totally tell you all the differences between the ducks in the park they went to every Sunday and everything. So something about the tone of Quinn and Santana's argument made her nervous and so did the look on Santana's face now. It didn't mean she didn't feel like she was going to cry, though. Her fingers wiggled in the empty air uselessly.

Santana stared at the blonde head walking in front of them. Quinn's posture was perfectly straight and her hands started to drift to her hips as she walked. A few people scrambled to get out of their way. Santana's scowl slipped into place and Jacob Ben Israel backed away so quickly he tripped over a stack of books and fell. She felt a rush of power when the rest of the hallway laughed and Noah Puckerman, who was undoubtedly voted the "cool one" back in elementary school and who had definitely grown at least four inches over the summer, gave her an approving nod and a thumbs up. She almost laughed until she looked at Brittany's face.

The tall blonde was staring at the ground. Every so often her eyes would flicker to Santana's hand like a child whose favorite teddy bear had been put slightly out of reach. Without Santana's hand, without her blanket of comfort, junior high suddenly seemed a lot scarier. It was really very big and very loud and filled with a lot of people she didn't know who kind of frightened her.

It wasn't just a pout. It was Brittany's '_I'm really scared and San isn't here to help'_ face. Santana saw that face and her hand reached out all on its own, almost instinctively. Then those girls' laughter and Quinn's disapproving stare flashed quickly through her mind. Her hand stopped moving but remained close all the same, so close that their hands brushed every few steps.

Santana had never felt like she wanted to fight Quinn's dominance before.

But she couldn't let Britt walk through something that scared her without her anchor. Britt _needed_ her anchor. So very slowly she brushed their hands together again and wrapped her pinky finger around Britt's.

Brittany smiled again.

And Quinn didn't say anything.

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><p><strong>An: Ugggh, this isn't Skins so I can't be positive how accurate my characterization is. Of course you could always review and tell me...**

**Cheers ~FS**


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